


Sinking Sands

by Close_enough_to_lose



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (mention only - no one hurts themselves), Borderline Personality Disorder, Brief Mention of Suicide, Character Study, Gen, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Mental Illness, Optimistic Ending, Post-Canon, takes place 3 years after the end of season 1, yurio has BPD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-11-05 21:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11021844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Close_enough_to_lose/pseuds/Close_enough_to_lose
Summary: Yuri is mentally ill and confused about his sexuality in a society which conflates the two. Now, he has to deal with the resulting inner conflict.But he also finds out that the world is not too terrible after all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a companion piece to [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10022603), which is a story about Victor's experiences with homophobia, but can be read separately. Some of the events mentioned there are mentioned here too from a different POV, but otherwise the only connection between the two is the theme. Feel free, however, to read it too, as a bonus.
> 
> The title is a reference to how Borderline personality disorder is sometimes compared to being caught in a quicksand.

There were days where Yuri was fine. There were days he felt nothing. On some days, he felt violent and upset. Other days he felt too many things at once, and the transition between all these states happened so quickly that he himself could barely keep track of the changes. In those moments, he was at the mercy of his emotions, unable to rationalize with himself, hardly understanding what was happening to him.

There were other days where he was stable. Yuri could breathe. He could think clearly, without irrational anger, fear, or sadness distorting his judgement. It was a reprieve, the calm before the storm. However, being able to think clearly also meant that his thoughts would eat at him. It was as if his mind was starved from inaction after his heart had taken over, so in turn, his mind tried to take control. His thoughts would eventually crumble under their own weight, and let the emotions rule once more, thus continuing the endless cycle.

Yuri was currently going through a period where his thoughts did not give him any rest.

In those times where he fell prey to overthinking, Yuri would usually take long walks to clear his mind. Sometimes he would crash at Yuuri’s and Victor’s apartment. Given that Victor had retired, he spent most of his time in Japan with Yuuri, and the two came back to Russia for one or two months during the summer to visit Victor’s mother. They simply could not stay long in Russia, not with the fear of violence constantly looming overhead. And so, for the remaining months for the year, the two graciously lent a key to Yuri so he could use the apartment while they were gone. It was closer to the rink than his own, and some of the tenants were Lilia’s ballet students, so he felt comfortable there. He had the much needed solitude there, while also knowing that the people living around him were familiar, benevolent faces.

That particular day, however, was a summer day, so Victor and Yuuri were in town. Yuri had to find another place to untangle his confused thoughts, or, more precisely, decide what to do with his confused thoughts. He had the following options: either going through the painful process of acknowledging them and sorting them out, or ignoring them until they festered. Neither choice was particularly attractive. Especially when the thoughts in question had an impact on his safety. Especially when even having doubts made him feel like he was attacked.

Yuri had never given much thought to love before. He had a difficult personality, and he had a hard time maintaining friendships, never mind a romantic relationship. Most of his time was dedicated to skating anyway. Besides, with a fanbase like his, there was not much room for privacy, so relationships were the last of his concerns. And yet, for some reason, one day the idea decided to pop up in his head, uninvited. He did not have feelings toward anyone in particular, but he wondered, in theory, what he looked for in a relationship. He wondered about interests, personality, looks, everything. And everything led him down a path he did not want to face. It led him to the possibility that he did not only like women. He was not sure yet: it was a only that, a possibility. But the sole fact of having such a thought scared him, because of the sheer number of implications.

Simply put, he was afraid of questioning his sexuality. He was afraid to talk about his fears with his therapist, because though homosexuality was no longer categorized under the label of mental illness, some mental health professionals turned a blind eye to official guidelines and let their prejudice reign instead. Yuri was mentally ill – “borderline personality disorder” they called it – but that was different.

He got his diagnosis a few months back. His problems have existed for as long as he could remember, but the diagnosis could only be given to an adult. He found it a bit ridiculous really. People, of course, develop a lot during their teenage years, but Yuri’s problems started to manifest at a young age, and they were the type of problem that persisted despite the passage of time. Nevertheless, the diagnosis was helpful, because it helped him express what he was feeling and tackle his issues.

The first thing that made him and people close to him suspect that there might be something more to his problems than simply an isolated period of mental distress was his extreme, perpetual mood swings. Sometimes having intense emotional reactions was not so bad: an achievement could, for example, make him feel euphoric and invincible, for a short while at least. Most of the time, however, it was the other way around: one second he would be feeling all right, but the moment something bothered him, he would close off to the world around him. In more extreme cases, he would fly into a rage.

That also tied into his explosive anger and short temper. For better or for worse, it was his defining trait. He knew he could turn his anger into something more productive, and he tried his best to do that. It was something he had learned to do on his own, even before he had his diagnosis. Being angry for a long time was exhausting, so Yuri had to teach himself how to prevent a burn out. He occasionally had some outbursts of rage, and though they were hard to manage, Yuri still felt like anger was the trait he was best equipped to deal with.

A problem Yuri had significantly more difficulty facing was his unstable relationships. He always started by loving people intensely. From afar, a given person was perfect, and it was easy to dismiss their flaws. Once he got closer, however, he would get disillusioned and start noticing the person’s imperfections. Flaws stained the memories of innocent, blissful idealization. Flaws, In Yuri’s eyes, became the most prominent part of the person, turning them into something loathsome. He would feel betrayed when someone’s shortcomings had an impact on his relationship with them. He then would turn to anger and hate. He would hate the person for making him believe a fantasy, and be frustrated with himself for being foolish enough to fall for it. Though he knew that refusing to look at reality was his own fault, he kept on worshipping illusions, even after countless similar situations, repeating the cycle over and over again.

It happened with Victor, whom he admired and respected, before he turned out to be a broken human like everyone else was. The same happened with Yuuri, who was mesmerizing at first, but who cried in the face of defeat, and was revealed to be weak. It did not yet happen with Otabek; Yuri prayed to break the cycle before he lost his dearest friend.

Because really, his unstable relationships stemmed from his fear of abandonment. People’s imperfections meant that they were weak and unreliable, when all Yuri truly wanted was someone to lean on. His own instability felt like walking in sinking sands. He needed solid ground which could support him. But other people were like brittle rocks, and he was a weight that could easily make them shatter. People fled before breaking completely, and that made them impossible to trust.

Even with the people he loved the most, he felt moments of doubt. In the case of his grandfather, who practically raised him, Yuri knew that he would never give up on him. But his grandfather was growing old, and his health was deteriorating. His grandfather would not abandon him, but bodies were fragile, time passed, and death stole people mercilessly. Yuri was afraid of fully expressing his affection because that meant that the eventual loss would be that much more unbearable.

With Otabek, he made an effort. Otabek had reached out to him and saw him for who he was, beyond his anger, beyond his fits, beyond his reclusiveness. In return, he admired Otabek’s determination and strength. Yuri was resolved to remain on good terms with him, no matter what it took. Otabek’s friendship motivated him to confront his trust issues.

Aside from his relations to others, Yuri had a difficult relationship with himself. His unstable self-image played a big part in that. It was to be expected of course. On top of his emotional problems, he was a public figure. If as a small child, his uncertainty about himself was fleeting, and not very bothersome, having an image imposed on him made him doubt his own identity. In his heart, he told himself he was more than just an aggressive teen. He was not an ice tiger, or Russia’s fairy, or any of those things people said to fulfill their fantasies either. But these were things that people saw, so the doubts were planted in his mind, and he was left with the troublesome tasks of untangling the truths out of the lies.

The one thing Yuri was able to control was impulsive, self-destructive behaviors. Sure, he made brash decisions, or was easily tempted by tiger print shirts, but he never did anything to hurt himself. He did not even drink, because he hated the loss of control induced by alcohol. He knew self-destructive people, but he was not one of them. 

He did not self-harm either. He was an athlete: his body was his pride, and he had to take care of it. He did not self-sabotage. Being an athlete gave him a strong sense of discipline. As for death, while the idea could be appealing in his darkest moments, suicide was never something he considered. In that sense, he was lucky compared to some other people who had the same disorder.

From time to time, he felt completely empty. It was as if he was tired of experiencing mood swings all of the time, so instead his mind decided to shut down his emotions completely. Nothing excited him. Sometimes, he was so bored that he simply lost touch with the outside world. Nothing felt real. He was under the impression that he was watching himself from afar. Luckily, these moments never lasted too long.

All of these things, they were part of a disorder. He was mentally ill and that was fine. But the fact that he had doubts about his sexuality, that was not a disorder. Or at least he tried to convince himself. He did not dare to talk about his confusion to his therapist. He was afraid it would be dismissed as a part of his disorder, under the label of unstable self-image, or risky behaviour, or whatever else that would discredit him. He already felt vulnerable because of these thoughts; he did not want to be humiliated for them as well.

He did not dare to talk about it to his grandfather either. He was too uncertain, and what was the point of talking about something that may turn out not to be true after all? He decided that it was not worth the risk of rejection. In the bottom of his heart, he knew his grandfather would never dare forsake him, but the fear remained. Yuri felt his heart break. He did not want to have a falling out with his grandfather over something that was out of his control. He shook his head. No use imagining unrealistic scenarios. His grandfather was a good man.

He did not dare tell Otabek either; he did not want to lose him over something so trivial. Over the years, they became very close friends, and Yuri held on to this friendship, fought for it tooth and nail. Otabek motivated Yuri to keep his impulsivity and anger under control. It made him determined to seek help for his emotional problems. He remembered the day he told Otabek about his personality disorder. Otabek had simply told him that he admired him even more for having accomplished so much even when his poor mental health was weighing him down. He was accepting of Yuri’s mental illness and understood him. He would be just as, if not more, accepting of something that was not a mental illness. Everything was in Yuri’s favour, but, for some reason, he was still paralyzed by fear.

Yuri knew that, truly, the hardest part was admitting his doubts to himself. And could he really be blamed? As a child, he heard people all around him say things that would make anyone in his situation disgusted with themselves. People talked about ‘ _those deranged homosexuals_ ’ and ‘ _these fags_ ’ as if they were, at best, immoral sinners, and at worst, the harbingers of society’s collapse. In either case, few people spared them any sympathy. Yuri was critical of these opinions of course, but having heard them so many times, he ended up almost believing them on a few occasions. It was insidious, but he told himself that it could be worse. If he had simply accepted these things without a second thought, he would have grown up earnestly believing that people who loved people of the same gender were all mentally ill predators. And he knew that these beliefs were untrue, but…

But.

Doubt was a powerful thing.

While he did not believe any of the accusations of perversion or sickness, he still felt like it was something shameful despite himself. He did not understand why some people had to insist on having their attraction known to others, when it was safer just to stay silent. His mind was particularly focused on a certain foolish couple. Why did they have to be so openly affectionate? Why was it so hard for them to accept that the world was harsh? Why did they have to expose themselves to danger?

In his heart, he knew why. Loving should never happen at the cost of fear. In his mind, however, it had been drilled that it was bad, it was a perversion, that such people should never see the light. And he was afraid, because if he turned out like them, then he was condemned to hate himself.

He remembered the first time he thought about the concept of same-sex relationships. He was twelve or thirteen, and it was before the Sochi Olympics. There was talk about prohibiting “homosexual propaganda”, as the news called it. He was not exactly sure what it meant, and the hushed talk made him feel like it was something he was not supposed to know. He wanted to look it up, but he was afraid that he would discover something that was meant to be kept away from him. He decided to use a computer in a library, so no one could trace the search back to him. Some of the articles he found defended the law, saying that homosexuals were corrupting children with their ideas, or worse, that they were sexual predators. Others were decrying the law as a violation of fundamental human freedom, as well as a danger to homosexual teens who need guidance more than anything. Yuri did not know who to believe: the idea of people who were attracted to others of the same gender was strange and unusual to him, but the accusations against them seemed far-fetched.

He, incidentally, remembered how it was around that time that he first saw Victor flub a jump, falling ungracefully, face crashing into the ice. It was a harrowing sight. Yes, people fell during training all the time, but Victor rarely did. When he did, he would make the fall look almost intentional, and be back on his feet right away, elegantly incorporating his mistake into his skating. This time around, he did nothing to halt his fall. After the impact, he did not move. Yakov skated up to him, bewilderment in his eyes. Besides Yakov’s questions and pleas for Victor to give him some sign that he was fine, the rest of the skating rink was silent. No one dared to breathe. After what seemed to last an eternity, but could not have been more than a minute, Yuri saw Victor cry, and a weak “sorry” resounded in the arena in response to Yakov. What Victor was exactly apologizing for, no one knew. Once Yakov had confirmed that Victor was not seriously hurt, he ordered the other skaters to stop staring, mind their own business, and keep practicing their routines. Yuri watched as Yakov led Victor away from the rink. He was leaning on his coach, as if he forgot how to use his own limbs. Yuri wondered if it had anything to do with the recent news, and from that day he decided to observe Victor not only as a model for his skating, but also as a human being outside of skating.

Yuri tried to understand more about Victor by carefully listening to his conversations with others, but Victor did not talk about anyone other than his fellow competitors or his dog. Yuri figured that the man was either very private, or had no life outside skating. He occasionally saw him hanging out with Christophe, but the nature of their relationship was a mystery to Yuri. For a year or two, he was unable to confirm if the incident in the rink was in any way related to the law that passed. And yet, he never saw Victor date, though he was already twenty-something. He never saw him look at a woman with desire either, and he did not understand if his playfulness with other men was a display of camaraderie or disguised flirting. One thing, however, was certain: if Victor was someone who liked men, then the accusations that such people were predators were false. Because Victor never looked at him or any other people of Yuri’s age in an uncomfortable way. He guided Yuri when needed, and encouraged him even when Yakov seemed to be dissatisfied with his performance. If there was something strange about Victor’s gaze, it was the sadness it conveyed despite the smile gracing his lips.

Eventually, Victor met Yuuri Katsuki.  It was the first time Yuri had seen Victor smile with his eyes. He was obviously head-over-heels for the Japanese man, and that confirmed Yuri’s suspicions. He did not know how he felt about this information, because nothing truly changed. And yet, after hearing for years that their kind of love was immoral, Yuri could not help but feel a little repulsed. He shook his head. Nothing changed. Victor was still Victor. He had looked up to Victor in the past, and he admired Yuuri, or at least until recently, before he had seen him cry. Yuri looked at the two dancing. It was like they were entirely different people. They looked happy. They were full of life. Yuri took a picture.

He also remembered how Victor revealed his love to the whole world. Yuri had felt both repulsed by and drawn to the screen. With a kiss, Victor had given up on his career, his image, and his safety, all for a man he had known for less than a year. Yuri could not fathom why. He resented Yuuri for having that effect on Victor, and he resented Victor for falling for it. There was a small part of Yuri who thought back to how happy they were at the banquet and understood why Victor stopped caring about his reputation, but at the time, the only thing Yuri was able to express was frustration, and he himself struggled to understand why.

As all these thoughts raced through Yuri’s mind, he found that his feet were leading him to Victor’s and Yuuri’s apartment. Despite the fact that from a distance, unwittingly, the two of them shaped his ideas about different types of love, he felt strange knocking on their door to ask them for help in that department. They were not his parents, and they had no obligation to share personal details just to provide emotional support to someone who had nothing to give in return. Yuuri was still his competitor, for God’s sake. He pushed the thought aside and tried to quell his worries. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and knocked.

He heard a few excited barks and muffled voices. He could not hear what they were saying, but they did not sound bothered by the unexpected knocks on the door. Finally, he heard a few footsteps before the door opened. He was greeted by Victor.

“Oh, Yura! I’m surprised to see you.”

“Can I crash here for a bit? … Please.”

Yuri felt the concern in Victor’s eyes and bristled. He did not want pity. Victor, in turn, felt Yuri’s discomfort, and his expression shifted into a smile instead.

“Of course! Come in, make yourself at home. I’ll go make tea. You can chat with Yuuri meanwhile.”

Yuri nodded in response and removed his shoes. He put on some slippers and headed to the living room. The layout was different from the last time he was there, which, for a split second, disoriented him. There were two couches facing one another with a low table in between. Yuuri was sitting in one of them, reading a book. Yuri decided to plop down on the couch across him. His namesake lazily tore his eyes away from the book to look at him. He simply greeted him with a smile, not prodding much. Yuri was glad. He did not yet feel ready to talk.

The sound of claws on wood indicated that Makkachin was running to greet him too. Yuri sometimes found the old dog obnoxious, but at the moment, he was glad for the distraction. Playing with Makkachin meant that he could delay conversation.

The distraction lasted a short while. Victor, still in the kitchen, asked what type of tea he would like. Yuri told him to do whatever was easier for him. A few minutes later, Victor brought three cups of black tea and put them on the table, and then comfortably settled next to his fiancé. Fiancés they remained all this time, because marriage was out of question, legally speaking. Yuri cast his eyes down. He remembered insulting their relationship the day after their rings were bought. To this day, he had never apologized. Back then, he wanted to make Victor snap out of his delusion, to hurt him, so he would face reality. Now, as he watched the two, he felt guilty. When they were together in public, there was always a nervous tension between them. They knew the kind of world they lived in. This was one of the rare times Yuri saw no trace of fear in their eyes, as they were relishing their domestic comfort.

“So, Yura, how are you?” Yuuri asked, interrupting his train of thought.

“Could be better, but I’m fine.”

“How’s your grandpa?” Victor inquired in turn.

“His back is still causing him problems, but he’s good otherwise.”

The small talk continued for a while. Yuri only said the bare minimum. Victor and Yuuri were acting as if he did not intrude on their lives at all. He was getting slightly irritated.

“Why are you two fine with the fact that I barged into your apartment? I wasn’t invited here,” Yuri decided to interrupt as Victor was going on about how Makkachin did something he deemed ‘too adorable not to share’. Victor was slightly taken aback, but soon enough replied:

“Well, it’s not like we were doing anything important. Sometimes the neighbours come by to say hi without warning too. Besides, you have access to this place ten months a year, so we do understand that you might need it from time to time.”

“Okay, then why are you treating me like a guest? Am I a guest or a part of this household?”

“Yura… I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but I have a feeling that settling a dispute over the apartment is not the reason why you’re here.”

Yuri huffed. He looked at Makkachin, who was making whimpering noises and nudging him with his nose, as if encouraging him to open up. He shook his head. As if the dog understood anything. As if opening up could help. Whenever someone extended a helping, he slapped it away. It was always like that.

“Yuri, is there anything you need to talk about?” asked Yuuri.

Yuri, instead of replying, kept his head down and played with Makkachin.

“We can’t read your mind,” said Yuuri, taking the silence as a cue to continue. “If you need something, you have to tell us. We really want to help, but we can’t if you don’t make the first move.”

Yuri looked at him. There was nothing reproachful in his eyes. Victor, for his part, kept silent and smiled sadly, as he often did when looking at the other Russian. Yuri was tensing up. He did not know where to start. He did not know what he could ask without being intrusive. He felt his nails digging into his palms.

“Take your time, Yuri. You don’t have to open up now, if you aren’t comfortable. When you are ready though, we will be here.”

“No, I want to talk about this now. I just … I need to find my words.”

Yuri had no idea where to start. He himself was not sure where his questions started and where they ended. He did not know if talking to the two would actually be helpful. He did not know if they shared any common experiences with him. If he was going to open up, were they going to open up as well? Would they find his worries understandable, or would they feel as if he was creating problems where there were none? What if he was going to make them remember things they preferred not to? What if he was putting them in trouble by approaching them about this subject? No, Yuri was an adult. They were not breaking the law. Besides, no one would know. But even then, why did they want to help him anyway? Why did they care? He did not feel like he had ever done anything to deserve their sympathy. He took a deep breath. He had come here for a reason. He made it this far. If he could trust anyone with this information, it was these two. He decided to start with a question to test the waters.

“Is it okay if I ask you some personal stuff?”

“How personal?” asked Yuuri.

“Like… love life personal.”

Out of the two in front of him, it was Victor who tensed at those words. Victor, who never missed an occasion to show everyone around how much he loved his fiancé, recoiled at the thought of talking about his love life. Yuuri, on the other hand, reserved as he was, seemed to understand where the conversation was going. He put his hand on Victor’s and whispered something in Japanese to reassure him.

“It’s fine with me,” said Yuuri.

“It depends on the reason you want to know,” said Victor. “I’ll decide once I know why.”

Yuri had hoped he would be able to delay the inevitable for a minute or two, but there was no point. Victor was leading him right to his goal. Unwittingly, he was doing all the work for him, and Yuri was glad. After a bit of hesitation, he said:

“Well, thing is, how to say… what do they call it … I think that I’m questioning?”

“Questioning …?” prompted Yuuri.

“Questioning, as in, I’m confused about who I like. As in, who I am attracted to. Gender-wise, I mean. I don’t know what to do about it.”

There was a pause that could not have lasted more than a few seconds, but the silence was deafening. Yuri’s thoughts, meanwhile, were all over the place. He felt exposed and ridiculous. He wondered if he should have stayed silent, if he had made a mistake by approaching them about this. He was unable to read Yuuri’s or Victor’s expressions. At the very least, they did not seem hostile.

“Okay,” Yuuri said. “First of all, how do you feel about it?”

“What do you mean? As in, do I feel bad about it, or in general?”

“Whatever comes to your mind.”

“Well… I’m mostly confused. I don’t think it should define me as a person but, I don’t feel like I even have the possibility to confirm my doubts, so I don’t know _what_ to feel.”

Victor and Yuuri took some time to consider his words. This time around, Victor decided to speak.

“Okay. When did you start having doubts in the first place?”

“Like, a few months ago? I don’t know. I was just thinking about it, hypothetically. And then it just … freaked me out.”

Another pause. Yuri took it as an opportunity to try to read Yuuri’s and Victor’s expressions once more.  They looked … sad? Concerned?

“What is it that scares you?” Victor asked.

“The uncertainty, I guess. Yeah. That.” Yuri did not know what else to say.

“You don’t have to be certain of anything. It’s fine for you to not know,” Yuuri said. “Hell, I’m in a relationship and still have questions about myself.”

“It’s not fine! If I don’t know, it will be easier for them to blame my uncertainty on symptoms of my mental illness. I don’t want that. It makes me feel gross.”

Victor and Yuuri exchanged a look, starting to understand Yuri’s conflict.

“Believe me, I know what you mean,” Victor said, his tone gentle. “If you don’t mind me asking though … how is this different, from, say, if you do end up finding that you like guys, and it’s still conflated with mental illness?”

“I feel like they’re exploiting something that I can’t control in order to stop me from even having doubts in the first place. If I was certain, I could at least know where to go from there, but right now, I’m just afraid.”

“How about changing therapists?” asked Yuuri. “I’m sure we can find someone who you can trust. These people exist.”

Yuri was not convinced. Who would be, after years of hearing the news say how people like them were mentally ill, after hearing horror stories about conversion therapy, after hearing how it all broke innocent people? He could feel himself growing more agitated. Maybe talking to them was a bad idea. 

“Where do you plan to find those? You do know what country we live in, right?”

“Yura, I know it might not seem like it, but not everyone is out to get you,” Victor reassured. “There are people who want to help. There are other people like me and Yuuri who are living their lives, because it’s not one law that’s going to stop people like us from existing.”

“This goddamn law exists because people who support it exists. How are you going to tell them apart from those who are helpful? Where are you going to find these magical open minded therapists?”

“Well, for starters, Yakov might know someone. Also, Yuuri, didn’t Zhenya from upstairs tell you something about having a therapist?”

“What does Yakov have to do with anything?” Yuri interrupted before his namesake could reply. “And Zhenya for that matter, isn’t she one of the older ballerinas under Lilia?”

Victor stifled a chuckle. There was much he wanted to tell Yuri, but he decided that for the moment, he would have to content himself with telling only what was essential:

“Yakov cares more than you think. He’s the one who found this apartment for us. And Zhenya, well she’s in the same situation as us. I don’t know if you noticed Yuri, but a bunch of our neighbours aren’t exactly heterosexual either.”

“And, by the way, Zhenya did find a therapist she is comfortable with,” Yuuri added.

Yuri was unsure how to take it. The solution seemed too simple. From what Victor and Yuuri were saying, some of his problems could be easily resolved. Too easily, even. Sure, knowing that he could at least get proper care for his mental health was reassuring, but it didn’t help him shake the feeling of fear, uncertainty and shame.

“Even if I get a better therapist, I still feel weird about questioning.”

“Why is that?” Yuuri asked.

“I told you before, I’m afraid!”

“You said you were afraid of being humiliated by your therapist. That’s completely understandable, and we can find you someone else. What else is there?”

Yuri was tired of going in circles. ‘ _I’m afraid of myself!’,_ he wanted to scream. He did not know how to express the insidious aversion he felt for himself. Even if he had a better therapist, even if he could talk more freely, people would still think of him as a teen who did not know better. And even if he was certain about his attraction – and really, the more he thought about it, the less he could deny that he could not care less about a person’s gender if he ever decided to date – he would be still met with other types of violence, if people found out.

“You know what? Never mind. It doesn’t matter. It’s fine.”

“It does matter. You don’t look fine, Yuri,” Victor said.

“It’s no use, nothing will help me”

“You can’t know that for certain, maybe we could –“

“I’m too afraid to be a _пидор_ , okay? Are you happy now? How do you plan on fixing that? How do you plan helping me when I can’t even feel okay about myself?”

Yuri burst out before he could stop himself. There was something pained in Victor’s gaze. He took a moment to realize what he had called himself. _Fag_. He did not mean to hurt anyone with the word. It was hostile, it made Yuri’s skin crawl when he heard others use it, but it simply was the way that people referred to men like him. Having heard it so many times, he accepted it despite himself, and referred to himself that way too. He looked at Yuuri, who seemed to recognize the word even though he was not yet completely fluent in Russian. _So he had been called that too,_ he thought. Yuri felt guilty. He had come to them for help, and in return, he only hurt them.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to! It just came out on its own I swear!”

“Yuri.”

It was Victor who spoke. There was no anger in his voice. His expression still bore hurt, but there was something else too. His gaze was steady, but not strict. Yuri could not decode it.

“… Yeah?”

“It’s fine. It’s fine to be afraid. It’s fine to call yourself that. Don’t apologize. I used to do that to. I called myself a _пидор,_ because at first, I had no other words for what I was. If you feel like this word gives you a voice, and if you keep going despite whatever the world decides to throw at you, then it’s fine. But you know what’s not fine? If you say that word with nothing but hate toward yourself. You can’t let yourself get destroyed from within, not when others are already suffocating you. Hating who you are is accepting defeat. And I know that it’s hard. Sometimes you will slip into self-doubt, because when the world keeps telling you that you are something shameful, you end up believing it. I’ve fallen into that trap in the past too. And it’s okay to fall sometimes. But it should never turn into something constant.”

“--And when you do find yourself in those moments where loving yourself seems too hard,” Yuuri added, “Please remember that there will be other people who care for you, who will love you when you are not able to. We’re here for you.”

Yuri looked at the two of them. They were unconditionally supportive, despite all the conflict he had with them over the years. Despite the fact that talking about this subject revived painful memories for the two of them, they listened to him and welcomed him with open arms. He wondered if his parents would have been like that too, had they been closer. He wondered if it was normal for him to latch unto Yuuri and Victor for guidance instead of his own father and mother, at least when it came to talking about love. He wondered what he would have done if he had no one to talk to about his confusion. He was not sure that he would have been able to take it. He felt tears forming in the corner of his eyes. But he was not alone. At the moment, he knew that at least two people would accept him no matter what. In the midst of confusion, fear, chaos and instability, he could cling to something, and that thought made his tears fall.

“…Do you want a hug?” Victor tentatively offered.

Yuri was shaking. He hated being vulnerable, but he nodded. He had enough of playing tough. He no longer wanted to bear the pain and confusion alone. He walked towards Yuuri and Victor and sat between the two of them.  They embraced him, shielding him from the outside world. He closed his eyes and sobbed. He felt only warmth. He was okay. He still had many questions, but for now, the fact that he had someone to lean on, if only for a short while, it was enough.

He did not remember how long they stayed that way. The rest of the evening passed by in a haze. Yuuri and Victor told him stories about their own teenage years, the ups and downs, the joys and the fears, the failures and the triumphs. When Yuri finally left, he felt a little bit more confident. He was still unsure, but he was slowly making peace with being unsure. He could gather the courage to talk about it with other people he cared about. He could decide who he trusted with his mental health. He had agency.

Yuri knew the world would take time to change. He knew people’s degrading opinions would still persist. He knew his personality disorder, on top of everything, would pose a challenge for years to come. He knew that life had even more obstacles in store for him. But he no longer felt like he was sinking. He was still unstable, but he found his way to solid ground, at least temporarily. And, he told himself with pride, he made this first step on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General notes:  
>   
> 
> \--At this point, Victor and Yuuri have been together for 3 years, so they probably know enough of each other's respective language to communicate in a complicated mix of English, Japanese, and Russian between themselves, especially in a domestic context. However, this would be hard to write because I don't know Japanese, and it would just be too difficult to follow without constantly referring the reader to the notes, so all the dialogue in the fic (minus one word that is translated in-text) is in English.
> 
> \--Yurio is speaking a mix of English and Russian with Victor and Yuuri, as Russian is more intuitive to him, but he's still trying to accomodate Yuuri. Also, from personal experience, it's hard to talk about gender and sexuality in Russian because there are some terms that don't exist or are simply not accessible because of how taboo the subject is, so the use of English is justified for that reason too.
> 
> \--About Borderline Personality Disorder: Yuri's experience of BPD is _not_ the be all end all description of borderline: each person experiences it differently. Some people have psychosis involved, some don't. Some have self-harming behaviour, some don't. In Yurio's case, he's more prone to emotional outbursts and relationship problems, and I tried to explore BPD while still staying as faithful to canon characterization.
> 
> \--On Makkachin: I recently realized that he's about the same age as Yuri, which is really old for a dog, but I did not feel like killing off the poor dog for this fic. Besides, he seems pretty energetic in YOI even at 15 years old, so I left him alive.
> 
>    
> Notes on Russian homophobia:
> 
> \--The law I'm referring to is the Russian law "for the Purpose of Protecting Children from Information Advocating for a Denial of Traditional Family Values," which forbids the "propaganda of non-traditional sexual relationship" among minors. The vague wording means that even queer-friendly sexual education, or an adult telling a teen that it's okay to be gay, could potentialy result in criminal convictions. As you can imagine, this can have devastating effects on LGBTQ youth's sexual health, mental health and safety. 
> 
> \--As is the case with a lot of places in the world, regardless of whether they have legal protections for LGBTQ people or not, it is easier for LGBTQ+ people to find support and community in larger cities, which is why Victor's and Yuuri's situation is not as bad as it could be. While you will find quite a bit of homophobia in large Russian cities, such as mental health "professionals" (I cannot bring myself to seriously refer to them as professionals) who recommend conversion therapy, police raids, parents disowning children, etc. etc., you're also more likely to find mental health professionals who are supportive of queer-identifying people, as well as an established gay community and other resources.
> 
> \-- While queer women are also targets of homophobia on an institutional level, and can be victims of violence, a lot of emphasis is put on male homosexuality when same-sex relationships are discussed in the news. There's an emphasis on "traditional family values", and the corruption of traditional masculinity especially seems to be a menace to the family from that perspective. Same-sex relationships are also seen as "a perversion of the West" which leads to the inevitable downfall of society, which is why Russians feel like they have to resist it by refusing to "succumb" to this "decadence".
> 
> \--I know that some people dislike the terms "homosexual" and "homosexuality" because they were used among psychiatrists to pathologize same-sex relationships, and that's a valid concern. However, I personally heard Russian speakers use the word "homosexual" more than "gay", so I opted to use that term in the fic.
> 
> \----
> 
> There will be another (much shorter) chapter where Yuri has a talk with Otabek. Hopefully I will have it done in 2 weeks.  
> (EDIT: I was too hopeful, and it is not yet done. I should have more free time in a month, and then I'll finish it)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading, kudos and comments are appreciated as usual!


	2. Chapter 2

It has been a few months since Yuri’s talk with Victor and Yuuri. He had not brought up the subject of his sexual orientation again: he was in a stable situation and did not feel like intruding on their lives once more. They, in turn, respected his boundaries, and did not bring it up either. Yuri did, however, ask them to give him the names of a few therapists he could trust, and he eventually found one he was comfortable with. He also started contacting Victor and Yuuri a bit more often to give them news about himself, as an implicit way to tell them that he was doing okay.

And Yuri was relatively okay. Therapy was slowly starting to help him control his mood swings and quell his irrational thoughts. Coming out to a few people had also lifted a considerable amount of stress off his shoulders.

Not too long after coming out to Victor and Yuuri, Yuri had also come out to his grandfather. He remembered how nervous he had felt then. _Grandpa, there’s something important I need to tell you._ Yuri remembered how he had closed his eyes when he told him everything, silencing his thoughts, begging the universe that his grandfather would react well. _Yurachka, my boy, who you date doesn’t matter to me. I would never for a moment stop caring for you. I’m only sorry I did not make that clearer, I wish I could have spared you from having to doubt your safety so much_ _._  Instead, Yuri was reminded why he loved his grandfather so much: he could be strict, he did not always understand him, but he never once blamed him for something out of his control, never once did he threaten to leave. His grandfather loved him unconditionally, and Yuri was grateful.

Yuri did not bother telling his parents, however. They were not the ones who raised him: his grandfather was the one who took care of that and made all the sacrifices. Besides, Yuri’s parents were financially dependent on him, and not the other way around, like in most families. If needed, they would find out on their own, and if they wished to reject him, it would be at their own peril. They had more to lose than he had. He simply did not have the energy to care.

The only person he had not yet talked to was Otabek.  They rarely saw each other in person, and Yuri did not feel comfortable talking about such a personal matter through Skype. He did, however, give Otabek a heads-up that he wanted to talk about something important in person, and the next time he would see him was at a competition.

Yuri had looked up the situation in Kazakhstan, to try to understand what kind of environment Otabek comes from. Legally speaking, it was somewhat similar Russia. People like him were allowed to exist, but without any legal protection. Yuri’s research, however, did not tell him if the people were more or less prejudiced than in Russia, but if he was honest with himself, he doubted they were much better. Not that it was important: other people did not matter. Otabek’s opinion was the only one that he cared about. Otabek did not seem to have any aversive reaction to Victor and Yuuri, so he thought that his chances were good.

Luckily for Yuri, he and Otabek had been assigned to the same qualifying events for the Grand Prix Final. If he decided to bail on his first attempt to talk to him, he had a chance to try again.

Yuri decided that the best moment to do it was after the exhibition skates. It made him feel more confident, as he remembered the time when he was fifteen, when Otabek had helped him improvise a new routine on the day of the exhibition. When Yuri thought back to that moment, despite the embarrassment he felt at some of his past artistic choices, he also felt a fond warmth in his heart, because, that day, Otabek had proved that no matter how ridiculous a situation was, he was still ready to listen and help.

When the day came to an end, after the exhibition skates, press conferences and endless interviews were finally over, he headed to Otabek’s hotel room. A part of him was still afraid to have this conversation, even though this was not the first time he had it. The possibility of rejection, no matter how small, had never ceased to terrify Yuri. He briefly considered doing this the next competition, but decided against it. He had already made it this far. He gathered his resolve and knocked.

“Hey,” greeted Yuri, trying to make his voice sound as neutral as possible in order to mask his nervousness.

“Hey,” Otabek responded.

“How are you?”

“Exhausted, you? Come in, it feels weird to have you stand in the door like that.”

Otabek gestured towards his room, wordlessly telling Yuri to make himself comfortable. Yuri did not need any further prompting, and, as soon as he took his shoes off, made his way to the bed, irreverently letting himself fall on the mattress with a loud noise. As he lay down on the soft duvet, he felt his own exhaustion catch up to him, but told himself that it was not the right time to fall asleep. Besides, Otabek needed somewhere to sit too. Yuri rose into a sitting position and gently patted the bed, inviting Otabek to sit next to him.

For a short while, they shared a comfortable silence, as they often did. Conversation was nice of course, and there were occasions when they would chat away for hours, but it was the shared silences that made their friendship special. Words did not always express feelings accurately, and for Yuri, who had a hard time keeping track of his thoughts and emotions, these quiet moments were grounding. He did not need to decipher what he felt, because he knew that Otabek accepted his presence, never pressing for answer to questions that Yuri himself could not reply to.

This time, however, Yuri knew what he wanted to say. He just needed to gather his courage, before the agitation he felt made their silence uncomfortable.

“I actually wanted to tell you about the important thing,” he finally said, telling himself that there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

“Oh?” Otabek prompted.

“Yeah.”

“You sure this is the best place?”

“Yeah. I don’t want anyone to overhear this.”

“Okay.”

Yuri gave a half smile. Otabek, as usual, made sure that he did not overstep any boundaries, and that gave him the confidence to continue.

“So uh, first of all, I just want to start by telling you that what I’m about to say, I don’t want it to change anything between us.”

Otabek nodded. _You can trust me_ , his eyes said.

“It really feels weird saying that out of nowhere but,” Yuri continued, “lately I have been feeling confused about who I’m attracted to and … I think I like both girls and dudes. So like … I’m bi.”

He avoided Otabek’s gaze, waiting for his answer before looking back up. No matter how many times he had come out before, he still felt vulnerable and bare each time.

“Ah, so I’m not alone then,” Otabek simply said.

Yuri had imagined many outcomes, but not this one. Maybe it was because of his own self-imposed isolation, maybe it was because for the longest time, he was blinded by his own self-hatred, he did not know, but he would have never imagined that Otabek was the same as him.

“What,” Yuri flatly said, not knowing how to react.

“Exactly what you heard,” Otabek matter-of-factly replied.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I just didn’t expect that,” Yuri admitted, shifting closer to Otabek.

After three years of friendship, Yuri did not detect the subtlest hint that he might have been like him, and Otabek never mentioned it. He felt a bit guilty. Was it because he did not listen enough? Was it because he gave Otabek a reason to fear him? Was it because –

“It’s not like we’ve really talked about this subject,” Otabek said, drawing Yuri’s attention back to the present moment. He must have sensed Yuri’s racing thoughts, because as he said those words, he also put his hand on Yuri’s shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Yuri sighed. “For me, I guess I didn’t know if I could trust you with that – not that you’re a bad friend! You’re a great friend! – Anyway, I was just afraid to bring it up. It’s not like the world is very nice to people like me. I mean, like us,” he corrected.

“To be honest, I felt the same way. I did not know how you’d react, and I didn’t want to compromise our friendship.”

Yuri turned to look Otabek in the eyes. He grabbed the hand that Otabek still had on his shoulder and said:

“Beka. I know that we’re cool right now, and I also made the mistake of not trusting you earlier, but I still want it to be clear: I will never let _anything_ get between our friendship, understood?”

Otabek nodded, and Yuri took it as a signal to firmly embrace him. He registered the warmth radiating from his skin and his steady breathing. Steadiness. That was what Otabek meant for Yuri. And Yuri, grateful for all these years of unconditional friendship, held him tight, knowing that he would ardently defend him from whatever the world decided to throw at him. Because if there was one thing that Yuri thought was positive about his personality disorder, it was that the intensity with which he felt everything also meant that the way he loved was much fiercer.   

After they broke off their hug, Yuri let his head rest on Otabek’s shoulder.

“Say, Beka, how did you find out, well, that you weren’t straight?”

“Good question.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I guess I didn’t think about it for the longest time,” Otabek said. “I feel like part of me always knew, but I realized it later, if that makes sense. At some point, I started to have a nagging feeling that I was undesirable in some way, and I later understood why.”

“Yeah … I know what you mean,” Yuri said, recalling the years of frustration and self-doubt the he himself did not understand until recently.

“And I keep thinking,” Otabek continued, “if I was in a relationship, could I keep living in Kazakhstan? I am allowed exist, legally speaking, but will other people let me exist?”

Yuri did not know how to answer. It was a question he often asked himself too. He had noticed how Otabek’s words spilled over, how he almost stumbled upon them, because his mind was racing. Usually, Otabek spoke in short sentences, preferring to listen rather than talk. There was something both desperate and relieved in his tone, which made Yuri wonder…

“Hey Beka… have you ever talked about this to anyone else?”

“…No?”

“Shit.” Yuri cast his eyes down. “How the hell did you manage not to go insane?”

Otabek let out a bitter chuckle.

“Who knows? I did spend a lot of time in North America, so I did not feel the danger as much. I guess they also have their assholes, but I was lucky to be surrounded by people who did not seem to care much about sexuality. It’s when I returned to Almaty that I fully understood my situation. It’s my home, and I wanted to be back, and I was glad to return, but when I was finally there, I felt like a stranger in my own land. It was really weird. Don’t get me wrong, I was really happy about all the little things, like being able to eat familiar foods again, and to speak without having to translate in my head, but at the same time, I felt like I could no longer speak, because some things could not be talked about. It was like walking on eggshells. I guess that was my point of realization. And after that … well, I shoved it out of my mind.”

“Damn, that sucks,” Yuri replied, once again not really knowing what else to say. He understood the feeling, but did not know how to help. Instead, he reached for Otabek’s hand. Really, there was not much to be said at all. Yuri simply wanted Otabek to know that he was there, and that he would always have his solidarity.

“Yeah,” Otabek said with a sad smile. “Sometimes I would reassure myself that it’s okay, that it’s possible to live like that. I see people like Victor and Yuuri, and it gives me a bit of hope. Japan is not too terrible, but Russia isn’t too great for that kind of relationship, and they’re still doing fine. And that means I could be fine too, in Kazakhstan.”

“You know if you brought up these two in any other context I would’ve told you to shut up but … they did actually help me out with this.”

“Yeah?”

“I invaded their apartment and gave them a lot of mixed signals,” Yuri jokingly bragged. “I may have also cried a bit.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you,” Otabek replied with a playful smirk.

Yuri elbowed Otabek, who simply shrugged in response. Once again, they settled into comfortable silence. There was still much to be said, but the most important had already been said. For the moment, it was enough. After a short while, the silence was broken by Yuri’s giggle.

“What?” Otabek asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Now that I think about it … we’re truly living up to the stereotype of our sport.”

“Huh, I never thought of that.” Otabek paused. “Do you think living up to the stereotype increases or decreases someone’s chances of winning?”

“I sure fucking hope it doesn’t increase the chance of winning, because in that case we’re both losing to the Katsudon.”

“Good point. Joking aside though, it’s his last year, so he won’t go easy on us.”

“Yeah. I really hope we both medal next competition too, and go to the Grand Prix Final together again.”

“We will,” Otabek reassured.

Yuri stayed in Otabek’s room for a while, talking about everything and anything. Nothing had changed between them; they remained as comfortable with each other as ever. Or rather, something did change: neither of them felt like he had to hide anything from the other. Their bond had grown stronger.

After a few hours, Yuri made his way to his own room, as both he and Otabek needed to rest after the tiring day they had. Yuri’s exhaustion was catching up to him, now that the first competition came to a close and that the stress of discussing personal matters was gone. He smiled. Maybe things were not too bad after all. Yuuri and Victor were right when they said, a few months ago, that he would be okay. He was surrounded by people who supported him no matter who he loved. Of course, not everything was perfect: living in Russia came with its challenges, and his mental health would likely remain a concern for the rest of his life, but at least, there was one small thing that no longer weighed him down. He could breathe a bit easier.

And with that in mind, he was prepared to face the next challenge with renewed energy.

The next competition.

The next hardship.

He was ready to take on life itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t really have that much to note about this chapter, but here a few things I wanted to clarify:
> 
> I got the information about the legal situation of LGBT+ people in Kazakhstan from a quick Internet search, but the rest is my inferences, which I based on the fact that Kazakhstan has been under Soviet control, and so I imagine that their attitudes about sexual orientation must be at least somewhat similar to those of Russians. If you are from Kazakhstan and you happened to read this, please tell me if I got anything wrong, I will happily fix it. I really do not want to misrepresent anyone.
> 
> As for my comments about North America and Russia, they’re from personal experience. My parents lived in the USSR, they left a few years after it crumbled, and I live in Canada. Thus, I am exposed to Russian culture: I am aware of people’s attitudes and of the news (and I’m not talking about the gross mistranslations you see here in North America that are done with the purpose of further inflaming political conflict, I actually hear them in Russian). At the same time, I also know about the different issues in Canada and the USA, because, well, I live in Canada, and we also get a lot of news from across the border.
> 
> \--
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, and would like to read something with a similar concept but from Victor's POV, you can read [Looking Into the Future, We Can See the Beginning](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10022603), which I wrote a while back.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! If you liked this, don’t hesitate to leave a kudo or a comment :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Areias Movediças](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13032567) by [gold_on_ice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gold_on_ice/pseuds/gold_on_ice)




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